


Mycroft's way (of finally admitting his feelings)...

by Crazy_little_witch



Series: Sexy times at 221B [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom!John, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sibling Incest, Smut, Sub!Mycroft, holmescest, sub!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 22:59:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16293491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_little_witch/pseuds/Crazy_little_witch
Summary: More sexy times in 221B. It's time for the Brothers to get what they so desperately want. And though they'd never dare to ask, ohn is determined to give it to them. The question is, how to go for it?Will Mycroft ever admit the desire, he never even allowed to voice to himself? You know, maybe he will. With a little help from John Watson he might just be courageous enough...





	Mycroft's way (of finally admitting his feelings)...

**Author's Note:**

> Lol, the third part took me even longer to write than the second part. Although I've started it in July 2017 it wasn't until yesterday evening, that I decided to finish and post it. You see, my muse is a fickle hhing and it's hard to coax it out to get some writing done. And it certainly didn't help, that I kind of fell out off love with Sherlock along the way.
> 
> Nevertheless, now that I rediscovered this fic, and still like it, I'm determined to finish it. I think I figured out, what bothered me in the first place, so it's time to let the boys have their happy end.
> 
> The story and mistakes are mine, the characters belong to ACD, the BBC and Mofftiss.
> 
> I love every single kudo, comment and bookmark, though I'm bad at responding. Please let me know what you think About it.

We need to talk. JW

Looking at his mobile with a frown, John pondered what to do. It’s been more than a week since he sent the message, but still no answer. Which was… odd in itself with anyone else, but regarding the man involved, it was downright suspicious. “Do you know, whether your brother is currently out of the country?” Sherlock didn’t even look up at the question. “I’ve ignored his texts the whole morning. Something about an electoral fraud… Boring!” So Mycroft was, in fact, in London. “Dentist again?” Sherlock looked up from his microscope to share a smile with his husband. “No, his GP.” 

Sherlock went back to his newest experiment, letting the matter go without further questioning John's interest in his brother-in-laws whereabouts. John's grin grew sharper. Obviously Sherlock knew, or at least suspected, that his partner was up to something, but chose to ignore it for the time being. No surprise there, as both brothers were touchy regarding sentiment in general and in particular with their own feelings.

Since their last encounter the brother's had avoided each other, communicating solely via text or, at times, John and Anthea. Which was rather annoying, coming to think of it.  
While he alternately watched his friend and the fading sunlight through the window, John brooded over the task on hand. How should he proceed? He knew firsthand that Sherlock was miserable. And Anthea had told him the same about Mycroft. Both brothers too stubborn to admit their feelings without being pressured into it. After hours of contemplating his possibilities and several cups of tea, he stood up in silence, his mind made up. Despite the late hour, he put his coat and shoes on, gave Sherlock a kiss on his forehead and left.

The game was on.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The silence at the Diogenes Club enveloped him like a soothing blanket, leaving the noise of the city behind. Without waiting for the butler to show him the way, as by now he knew the it by heart, he followed the corridor to a discreet door, which led to another hall. At the end, he opened another wooden door. Anthea looked up, when he entered. Her face remained deadpan and had he tried to surprise her, he would've been disappointed. „Is he in?“

She just motioned him to go on, not saying a word in protest. Glad, he, at least, wouldn't have to argue with the lethal secretary, he strode through the room and opened the heavy door to Mycroft's office. The man in question sat behind his dark desk, bent over some pages, expensive fountain pen in one hand. John took a moment to appreciate the view before he stepped inside. The door closed behind him with a silent click.

„Sit down, John.“ The politician didn't seem to be caught off guard, which shouldn't have surprised John at all. Prat, he thought amused. Realizing the other man had once again played him, had waited for him to come to him instead of the other way around. John sighed. Sitting down, he kept quiet, intent to not be the one who broke the silence. If Mycroft thought, he had the upper hand in this, he had to think again. Anticipation ran hot through John's veins, imaging the the fight for control.

Mycroft kept working, eyes moving smoothly from left to right, page after page, in an impressive tempo. Meanwhile, settling into the surprisingly comfortable silence, the doctor was content, for once being able to just observe the older man. He noted the resemblance between the brothers when concentrating. Focused. Singleminded. Sexy as hell. He swallowed the saliva gathering in his mouth at the thought of eventually being able to put his hands on his brother-in-law.

Finally, after long minutes, Mycroft put his pen aside and looked up. John hold his glance, unflinching, to make it clear, who exactly was in charge right now. The silence between them dragged on, tension building. The soldier in him remained patient. He knew how to wait, he knew how to hunt his prey. Tilting his head to the left, he raised an eyebrow questioningly at the man in front of him and waited. 

His blood sang in triumph and arousal, when Mycroft broke the eye contact, irritation palpable. „Now, we can talk.“ Johnleaned back into his chair, his muscles finally relaxing. He knew perfectly well how he wanted this conversation to go, but up until now, he hadn't been sure, they'd get there in the end. Still, it wouldn't be easy. 

„John...“ „Mycroft.“ The blond man interrupted, before he could continue. „We both know, why I am here. You tried to wait it out, to ignore me. Forced me, to come here, into your territory,“ he looked around. „Did you actually believe, this would intimidate me?“ The doctor chuckled lightly. „You did, didn't you?“ The man behind the desk sighed, fiddling with his pen. Nervous, John thought, interesting.

Still, Mycroft kept silent. „You watched us, you listened to your brother's confession. And don't lie to me, Mycroft. We both know you have cameras in our flat.“ John had found one of the cameras when he cleaned the mantle, just before the brother's last encounter. Assuming there were others wasn't too far stretched. "Classified data, I'm afraid." John began to regret he hadn't had the foresight to bring the crop.

„You know how he feels about you. And you must know by now, that I'm not opposed to it.“ Understatement of the year. „Far from it, to be honest. We both want you in our relationship.“ And yes, John had expected at least some reaction to his words. But there was nothing. Just a blank mask in place, betraying nothing of Mycroft's emotions towards the prospect of a polyamorous incestious relationship with his brother and his husband. That wouldn't do. Stubborn ass.

John decided to be as blunt as his English nature allowed him to be. „Not only for the fucking, you see. Although, I have to admit, I can't wait to see you bend in front of me, taking the crop like the good boy you are, coming untouched just by the hot burn on your flesh and my hand on your ass. You losing control, just because of me.“ John had to adjust himself, arousal spiking his blood. „God, we could be fantastic together.“ Mycroft's cheeks were a bright pink by now, even recognizable in the dark shadows of the dimly lit office.

„But,“ he continued, his voice rough. „We both know you feel compelled to deny your own desires, trying to eliminate them. Putting your whole life on hold, for. One. Single. Reason.“ Now he got the reaction he so desperately had waited for. Mycroft looked up, a glare on his face, daring John to continue. Some day he had to ask the older Holmes brother how many men and women had broken under this intense stare. But now that he finally had the older man's full attention, he wouldn't waste it.

„You've done all of this,“ looking around pointedly, „became who you are today, just for him. To be able to protect him. You couldn't tell him how much you loved him, so you decided to love him from the distance.“ John saw Mycroft paling, but not willing stop now, he continued. „So...“ their eyes met. „...do it for Sherlock. Do it for your little brother. And admit that you love him!“ And just with that, John had won their battle of wills.

Mycroft, who hadn't said a word, since John had begun talking, slumped down at the doctor's last words and covered his face with his hands. Tired of always being in control. Defeated. John stood and with slow movements, to give the other the opportunity to object, he stepped around the large desk. Not stopping until he was close enough to touch.  
It took only seconds. And without further hesitating, the doctor swivelled Mycroft's Chair and drew the shivering politician into a bonecrashing hug. „Shhh... it's fine, Myc. I've got you.“ 

They stayed in this awkward position for long minutes. Mycroft still sitting on his chair, his face pressed into John's soft jumper, revelling in the heat underneath, John with his arms slung around the other man's shoulders, slightly bent down. 

At last, Mycroft relaxed into the embrace, his tight grip loosening slightly. And John took the chance to pull the other man up on his feet, steering the distraught man over to the couch. Pushing him down, John nestled close to Mycroft, their bodies touching from thigh to shoulder. The other man's hand in his own, he stroke over the sensitive skin of Myc's wrist. Up and down, ever so gentle. „There will be rules for you to follow. Orders to obey.“ Mycroft nodded slightly. „If you behave, we'll have lots of fun. If you don't... well, less fun for you. Understood?“ Another nood.

John smirked, glad the man leaning against him couldn't see it. Now that they had cleared the basics, he knew perfectly well how he wanted to proceed. „Good, pet. Sit. Then let me explain, how this will go.“

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
“John? What have you done?” The soldiers smile, that had been impossible to suppress on his way home, grew smug, when he heard the slightly alarmed tone in his dear husband's voice. So he finally figured it out, John thought chuckling. Pulling off his coat, he left his shoes beside the door and stepped into the sitting room. His partner stood with his back to the window. Incredulity written all over his beautiful face.

Sherlock had once told him, how amazed he was at how unassuming John usually seemed to be, when he could switch into soldier-mode without so much as the blink of an eye. “Just a social meeting, honey.” He dared him to say something. Both men knew punishment would be in order should Sherlock take him up on it. And Oh, what ideas Sherlock’s blush gave him. 

Without elaborating further, he went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. And because leaving the antsy man alone for too long, could be dangerous, he returned to the living room immediately. Sherlock had sat down in his chair, skin even paler than usual. “John…” 

“Don’t worry about it, pet.” Once more the loving doctor, he went down in front of Sherlock, petting the other's strong thigh lovingly. “This visit was long overdue and we ended up having a nice talk. Who would have known?” More or less at least. Sherlock slumped back in his arm chair, breath heavy and eyes unfocused. John swore under his breath. “None of this, pet.” Gently he pulled the other man forward, until Sherlock was bent over his knees. “Take a deep breath for me…” 

It took a while, until Sherlock seemed to be able to focus on John's soothing voice. But finally he took a shaking breath, than another. “Good… now, hold it. Yes, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Now out.” With one hand on Sherlock's breast and the other on his shoulder, John guided him through the panic, until Sherlock calmed down again. John wondered when he had become an expert in handling the Holmes' brothers. 

Picking up their tea in the kitchen, he put the tray on the table before climbing on his husbands lap, where the doctor promptly settled down. Snuggled close, John's head neatly tucked under Sherlock's chin, both enjoyed the rare quiet moment. John's mind began to wander, until... “Will he come?” 

John tried to look up, but Sherlock just held him tighter, not willing to look at his husband yet. Turning his face, John nuzzled at Sherlock's throat. Licking at the pulse point, where he could feel Sherlock's heartbeat accelerate again. John knew his answer would change their live forever. 

“Yes.”


End file.
